Bathrobes, Boats, and Curses

The door swung open and a heavy, sweat-soaked man rushed in the room. Another man, well nestled in a bathrobe and slippers, sat in a chair sipping coffee. The sweaty man took a few steps in the room before he paused to catch his breath. “Leonard, are you alright? I heard something coughing and sputtering up the road, and I thought I was going to have to call animal control to come and shoot some wounded animal wandering up the lane. If I had known it was you I would have called and had them use a moose tranquilizer – because I knew the second you’d stumble in here you would begin dripping sweat all over the carpet. Look – look at you go. You missed the wet t-shirt contest by about twenty minutes – better luck next season.” As the man talked Leonard remained hunched over catching his breath; he did not reply but only raised his right hand, presenting a well-intentioned single-fingered salute. Leonard knew there was no point in arguing, his brother Skip was a royal pain in the ass and always had been. Some people have always been told they were smart; others, like Skip, had never been told that and felt compelled to act as such in every scenario in the hopes that someone would call them that someday. That day hadn’t come for Skip and it was not going to come this day either. But today Leonard didn’t need someone smart, he just needed somebody to hear what he had just found.

“Skip, you gotta come with me to Johnson, Johnson, Johnson, and Sons right now – like, right now,” Leonard coughed out.

“That old gross boat yard that sounds like a law firm? Why?” Skip retorted.

“Because,” Leonard began losing his breath again, “I found something big, really big, in the cabin of an old sailboat we are prepping for auction.”

“Is it another boat?”

“No – it’s a bag of money. I think around twenty-thousand dollars.”

Skip lifted his face up from his coffee cup and his eyes were wide. “Twenty-thousand dollars? Leonard, why the hell didn’t you say so? Did you run here?”

“Yes – it’s not far.”

“I know that, Leonard, but I’m not too keen on switching out of my bathrobe at any point on a Saturday. Let’s go, I’ll drive,” Skip said as he grabbed his keys and followed Leonard out of the house.

“Skip – there is one thing about the money I should mention,” Leonard said as they pulled out of the driveway and headed to the boatyard.

“It’s requesting that we take it to dinner before second base – got it,” Skip quipped with a smile, clearly impressed with his wit.

“Shut up, for once Skip;” Leonard blurted out, “no, there was a note that came with it. It was scribbled in a little black book that was tucked in the bag.”

“You sound concerned, what did it say?”

“The way it was written made it seem like the money was cursed.”

“Cursed? Like the kind a palm reader casts on someone who skips the bill? Like voodoo?”

“I have no clue if it is voodoo; all I know is what I saw.”

“Alright, alright, let’s just get to money and take a look,” Skip said as he slowed the car and turned into the boatyard. Against the backdrop of the water, a long line of sailboats glistened high on stilts. Skip sped into the parking lot adjacent to the line of boats and came to a sharp halt in a spot.

“There she is,” Leonard said as he pointed to an old wooden schooner at the far end of the line. They shuttled across the grass from the parking lot and neither of them realized how ridiculous they looked: Leonard in his skin-tight, soaked white shirt and Skip in his flowing bathrobe.

They reached the boat and Skip ascended the ladder to the deck that Leonard had left there. “Nice whitey tighties there Skip,” Leonard called out as he held the ladder for support.

“I know, I know, not as nice as your leopard-print G-string - but what can you do?” Skip quipped as he swung his leg over the ladder and landed on the deck. Leonard followed up the ladder and led Skip down into the cabin and into the aft berthing space.

“No shit,” Skip said as he looked ahead at a large brown duffle bag that sat in front of an opening in the woodwork. Peering in, he found clusters of tightly wrapped bills strewn about the lining. “How much did you say you counted?”

“About twenty-thousand,” Leonard replied.

“This...is…incredible. What kind of luck is this?”

“I don’t know. What about the black book that I mentioned in the car?”

“What about it? Let me see it,” Skip asked as Leonard picked up a little black book from the nearby shelf and handed it to him. The binding was weathered, but otherwise intact. He turned to the first page and paused to read the inscription:

If you are reading this then you probably fancy yourself fortune’s friend.

Take my word, and don’t spread yours.

They will find you; they always do.

After a few seconds Skip’s face slid into a mischievous grin. “Lenny, my little brother Lenny, this is really captivating stuff. It reads like an advertisement for some top-notch snake oil.”

“What do you mean by that? So you think we should just ignore it, is that it?"

“That’s exactly what we should do. You are looking at this all the wrong way – the true curse is to live in fear because you think there is a curse. See that? Whoever wrote this did it with the intention of leaving you in this sort of anguish. I mean, look at you right now.” Leonard had slumped into the corner of the room and was looking at his feet. “I think we should do the contrary and inform quite a few people that you’ve found this money. We are clearly being baited to suffer in silence, and it reads as if we are also being mocked in the process.”

“What should we do?”

“Well I think you should go sit in the corner over there and think about how you are going to spend the money. I, on the other hand, will make a few phone calls. I want people to know what you have found, so we can rid ourselves of this false curse. Fortunately, a little black book can’t reverse the psychology of a situation where the psychology is in fact reversed back on itself – agree?”

"Honestly, Skip, I have no idea what that means,” Leonard replied.

“Don’t bother. Let me make some calls and then we will head to the bar – you are clearly buying.”

Skip spent the next couple of hours making calls to various people around the town. His tone was cheerful, but direct, in his recounting of the circumstances in which Leonard came into the money. Whenever he brought up the little black book and the curse, he would let out hardy laugh and state how by calling, he was beating it. Leonard remained in the berth with the money, holding each stack deliberately and placing it neatly in the bag.

After Skip made the final call of the afternoon, he determined it was time to head out. “Alright Leonard, let’s pack up and roll on out of here. Grab the money, let’s go,” Skip said. Leonard already had the bag ready, and they promptly went out on deck.

The day itself was calm, with the occasional gull calling in the background and the ocean breeze sweeping over the boatyard. Above the breeze, almost imperceptible at first, was a slight murmur. It started as a hum but gained vitality and strength after a few moments. Whatever was creating the noise was approaching the boat.

Skip and Leonard looked down off the port bow of the boat and saw a large cluster of people walking toward them. “Skip, what is this?” Leonard said in a low tone.

Skip stepped forward to the railing and looked down. The crowd that had gathered was made up of the very people that Skip had just called. “See Leonard, the money is already bringing us together. What kind of curse would bring townsfolk together?” Leonard came to the edge and looked down with uncertainty. “Good afternoon! I’m glad you all felt to inclined to come visit after our phone call. We were just planning to go get a beer. Care to join?” Skip called out.

“Well, would you care to share some of the money?” One man called out as a few others chuckled.

“Yeah! You just found it – besides, I’m pretty sure Skip still owes me for something from last year.” Another man called out.

“Now, now – I get you all are excited, but let’s take a step back and talk about all of this over a beer. We could all use a beer.” The message was not received well, and the crowd became more agitated.

“More of Skip’s shenanigans. There probably isn’t even a black book or anything like that – I bet Skip just wanted to call us to brag.” Someone from the crowd yelled.

“Yeah!” said one.

“Exactly!” said another.

“Why don’t you just come down guys and we can talk about the money – we need it more than you anyway,” A bearded man in the back called out.

Skip turned to Leonard, “I think we are losing our support here, it may be time we find another way out.”

“I knew it, I knew you’d find a way to make this difficult.”

“Not more difficult, Leonard, simply different. Yeah, we may have to escape, but the curse is broken so we – you – can spend the money in peace.” As Skip was saying this the crowd circled the ladder.

“Look – I think they are thinking of climbing up,” Leonard said.

“Well, that’s not ideal. Can we move over to another boat? Perhaps jump across and work our way down?”

“I guess, but I’m not sure what that would do.”

“Don’t sweat it, let me take care of the planning.” Skip moved aft and grabbed onto the stern of another boat that was positioned adjacent on the starboard side. Climbing hand-over-hand, Skip maneuvered and hauled himself into the cockpit of the other sailboat. “Ok, ok, I think we are in a good place. We can just keep doing this down the line of boats; if it gets really bad we can always call the cops, or the boatyard owners.”

“You seem oddly calm,” Leonard replied.

“You shouldn’t get too excited in a bathrobe. Now, you need to throw me the money – it’ll be much more difficult if you leave it behind and try to pull it through.”

Leonard was skeptical, but they were running out of time. As he picked up the bag and walked to the railing, he heard the ladder rattling as people started cheering. “Oh crap, they are coming up!” Leonard cried out.

“Easy, easy – just throw me the money.” Leonard was shaking now. He moved cautiously over to the railing, and with an exaggerated windup, threw the bag across. It moved swiftly through the air and was a near-perfect throw, until it struck one of the shrouds running from the mast to the deck, ricocheted between the two boats, and fell to the ground below. Leonard and Skip watched in horror as the crowd closed in; swallowing the bag.